


When Comes The Dawn

by Medie



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-13
Updated: 2010-02-13
Packaged: 2017-10-07 05:52:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/62053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Medie/pseuds/Medie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They came so very close to losing her...</p>
            </blockquote>





	When Comes The Dawn

**Author's Note:**

> written for the [ Janet Fraiser Ficathon](http://www.livejournal.com/users/thenewhope/40718.html)

In the predawn light, the room was a study in shadow, colors and contrasts dulled by its softness, giving rise to a sensation of isolation. Time and reality seemed to bleed away into the dusky silence and, even if she strained to listen, the sole waking occupant of the room was unable to hear the sound of her own breathing.

Sitting on the floor, Janet rested her head against the wall and watched her sleeping daughter. Cassie lay, curled on her side, one arm resting beneath her head, hair splayed over it and the pillow. In sleep, she looked relaxed, peaceful, and so very young. Thinking of how close they'd come to losing her . . .

Janet shook away the thought then passed a hand over her face, soothing the tension away. Cassie was fine. Safe. Healthy. Alive.

The words had become a mantra to her, playing on a repeating loop in her mind, birthed in the instant Nirrti had healed Cassandra. They were an ever present whisper in the back of her mind, her subconscious' attempt to convince her of the reality that it was really over.

With the passing of every moment, Janet moved closer to that belief, away from the sneaking fear that she'd fallen asleep in her office. That, any second, she would wake up to Cassie's test results before her with no cure in sight. It was a fear that had haunted her steps in those first few hours, but no longer . . . Slowly, its grip on her was beginning to lessen and, soon, she hoped it would be gone entirely.

The soft sound of footfalls in the hallway foretold her husband's arrival and she looked up with a smile as the door opened just enough to admit a hand bearing a steaming cup of coffee. Humoring him, she reached out for it despite knowing what would happen. As expected, the coffee withdrew and was, briefly, replaced by a mirthful gaze before he retreated from sight and walked in the direction of the kitchen. Ever amused by his antics, her smile widened and Janet got up.

Leaning over their daughter, she tucked the blankets closer about the teenager's body, her movements almost reverent. Brushing a kiss across Cassandra's forehead, Janet resisted the sudden urge to check her temperature just one more time knowing the mother in her simply wasn't willing to believe the doctor in her. Forcing herself to turn away from the bed, she reminded herself sternly that Cassandra had passed every test she'd run with flying colors. She was **fine**.

A chagrined smile on her face, Janet left the room as quietly as possible, being careful to close the door behind her. Standing in the hallway, she hesitated, listening carefully to see if she'd disturbed Cassandra. Hearing no movement from the bedroom, she followed her husband into the kitchen.

His back was to the door when she entered but he knew she was there. In all the time she'd known him, since before they'd been together, she'd never managed to truly sneak up on him. But, that didn't stop him from pretending she could and she loved him for it.

This time, she stopped behind him, pressing close, her hands grasping his upper arms. Rising up on her toes, she couldn't resist gruffly demanding, "Hand over the coffee or else!"

"Or else what?" he challenged, turning his head to look at her out of the corner of his eye.

"Or else, *Colonel*, I use the really big needle in your next post-mission check." She threatened, laughter encroaching on her voice. It felt so good to laugh. They'd had very little of it over the previous few days. "The really, really big one."

"Okay, Okay!" Jack held out his hands, one of which held the aforementioned coffee, "I give! Anything but that needle! That thing probably violates the Geneva Conventions."

Taking the coffee, she let him turn and, immediately, his arms went about her. Quite happily, she rested against him as she appreciated the coffee, feeling his lips brush against her hair and then her temple. After she'd taken a tentative sip of the hot liquid, she couldn't help teasing, "Oh, it is not. You're just afraid of needles."

"Am not!" He protested, waiting a beat before adding, "I'm afraid of needles wielded by **you**. You're way scary with one of those bad boys in hand. Worse than Carter with a P-90. I keep tellin' Hammond we should turn you loose on the Goàuld. They'd be actin' like good little snakes inside of a week."

"Jack!" She laughed, nearly spilling some of the coffee. "That is terrible."

"What?" he gave her a look of mock-offense. "You don't like my jokes?"

"Your jokes redefine terrible." Putting the coffee aside, she rested her hands on his chest and grinned up at him. "Lucky for you, I like terrible."

"Imagine my relief." He drawled back, lowering his head to hers, kissing her.

Janet moved closer, hand sliding up to cup the back of his neck lightly, moving up into the kiss. Jack's arm tightened about her waist, holding her up and supporting her weight, giving her the freedom to respond. She loved it anytime he kissed her but, secretly, she thought these were the best ones. Slow, lazy, and thorough. "Mmm . . . " She sighed, smiling at him as he pulled back. "I needed that."

"You and me both." He responded, hand sliding up to brush her dark hair away from her face. "You didn't come to bed last night . . . " The unspoken "I missed you" was unmistakable in his eyes and she moved up to kiss him again.

"I sat up with Cassie." She explained unnecessarily. "I was afraid . . . If I left her . . . I just needed to see her."

"I know." Jack pulled her into a hug, resting his cheek against the top of her head, hair tickling the skin of his face. "Did you get any sleep?"

"Some. Not much." She felt his hesitation, his head shift and knew what he was about to ask. "The what if's are going to be with me for a while." Letting out a weary sigh, she allowed herself to cuddle into him, seeking the comfort they hadn't had the freedom to offer each other while on base. "A long while. We came so close to losing her, Jack . . . "

"We didn't." He insisted, voice rough. "Don't go there, Janet. Don't let yourself . . . "

The pain running through his words made her realize just what this had to have been doing to him. It didn't take much to imagine how facing the possibility of losing another child could impact him. Lifting her head, she tilted it to meet his gaze, seeing the pain there. "Jack . . . I"

Her husband shook his head at her. "I'm ok. Cassie's fine. We're fine. I'm fine."

"And if you repeat it to yourself enough, you'll convince yourself of it." She gave him a knowing look. "I've been telling myself the same thing."

"Well," Eager to be moving away from the topic of Charlie, Jack returned his arms to her waist, tugging her closer to him. "How about we make a deal? I tell you. You tell me. We both believe it."

"It's a plan." Janet nodded then gave him a teasing look. "Shake on it?"

"Mmm . . . nah. This one's too important for just a shake." He tilted his head, appraising her and she was relieved to see genuine amusement in his eyes. "Spit shake?"

The horrified look she gave him in answer to **that** particular suggestion was only half faked. "I'm going to pretend that you didn't just say that." She held up a hand, laughing. "Otherwise, I may have to give in and lecture you on just how extremely unsanitary an idea that is and we both know how much you'd enjoy that."

"Aw c'mon, Janet." He wheedled, lacing his hands together at the small of her back and leaning his own back against the kitchen's countertop. "The spit shake is a sacred ritual. Want me to call Daniel? He can explain the cultural significance and all that anthropological gobbledegook he spews whenever he wants to enlighten us poor military folk on the topic of the day."

Janet tried to draw herself back together but the irrepressible look on her husband's face only made her laugh harder, resting her head against his shoulder, inhaling the scent of his aftershave. "You're worse than terrible." She announced after finally getting her laughter under control. "Much worse than terrible."

"Okay . . . so the spit shake is out." Jack waited for her to lift her head before giving her a positively lecherous look and suggesting, "May I suggest a better way to swap bodily fluids and seal our deal at the same time?"

A delighted shiver raced through her at the look but Janet forced herself to keep to the humor of the moment as she lifted one brow. "I shudder to think of just what you're considering now."

"Oh, it's much, much, much more binding than a simple spit shake." Looking as solemn as he had wicked, her husband paused for effect before adding, "In fact, you might say, it's practically impossible to break."

"Sounds like just the thing." She agreed breathlessly. Jack's hands were on the move again, having found their way beneath her shirt, his thumbs working in slow circles on her skin. The touch was positively maddening and was making it very difficult for her to focus on anything but what it was doing to her.

"Somethin' wrong, Janet?" He asked, the wicked look back in his eyes. "You're looking a little flushed."

"Am I?" She asked faintly, rising to the unspoken challenge. "Can't imagine why."

"Maybe you left the thermostat up again?" Jack suggested, adding a few more fingers to the fun, massaging her skin lightly, letting them wander down beneath the waistband of her slacks. "Or . . . could be something else."

Like a husband with an awful mind and absolutely magic fingers. Janet blinked hard, her mouth going just a little dry, then forced herself back to the earlier subject. "You were saying something better than a spit shake?"

"Oh yeah . . . that." Adjusting his position slightly, Jack pulled her closer. "I'd say a demonstration is in order."

"Demonstration?" She repeated, trying to remember where exactly this conversation had started out. Her memory was quite gleefully failing her.

"Demonstration." He affirmed.

One hand pulled free of what it had been doing and Janet only just stopped herself from protesting audibly. Watching him warily, she silently resolved to plan some time alone in the very near future. Perhaps it was time for a 'fishing trip' to the cabin. Cassie had a class trip coming up. If they could convince the General to give them leave at the same time, it would be perfect and, somehow, she suspected he wouldn't fight them on this one. If anything, it would be the opposite. He'd already suggested to her that some time off for them both was in order.

And, just as soon as her brain was back in working order, she would have to bring it up with Jack. But, first, there was a deal to seal and, judging by the look in her husband's eye, she was going to like what he had in mind.

Jack's hand had migrated away from her back and now skimmed along her side then up her arm until it was resting on her shoulder. She glanced down at it, feeling the pad of his thumb brushing over the skin of her collarbone, then up at him. There was no teasing in his eyes now, now there was love, longing, desire, and something that was undeniably Jack. What exactly it was, she'd never been sure but his eyes always held so much more than his emotion. An indefinable quality that was uniquely his. She'd always loved it. Been drawn by it.

"Jack . . . "

He broke free of the reverie he'd fallen into and smiled at her. "Just thinking." His hand moved again, sliding into her hair and subtly guiding her forward.

Their lips met briefly, then he stopped and stared at her, eyes wandering over the features of her face, lit by the soft light of morning filtering in through the kitchen window. He smiled, a little smile, and she felt her knees go weak. Then he was drawing her back in and her eyes slid shut in anticipation. His mouth closed over hers and she felt that familiar light-headed feeling steal over her, engulfing her, as the kiss deepened. It was more intense than the previous, it was a kiss she could get lost in and she did so quite willingly.

One of them moaned, perhaps both of them, and he was tightening his arm about her as she pressed closer. The stress of the previous few days' events and the enforced separation of being on duty in the Mountain had taken a toll on them both, building up pressure that was now bursting forth, unleashed by the kiss.

Janet felt Jack's hands skim down her body and then they were turning, his hands grasping her legs and lifting her up onto the counter. She pulled back, giving them both a second to breathe, before adjusting her angle and diving back into the kiss, her own hands grasping the material of his shirt and pulling him into the space between her legs.

Making out in the kitchen like a couple of teenagers wasn't exactly how she'd expected to start the day but Janet wasn't about to complain. With all the adherence to duty when they were at work, she craved moments like this.

"Oh man . . . " Cassie's sleepy protest cut through the moment with the efficiency of a staff weapon. "Guys . . . I did **not** need to see that! Especially not *this* early in the morning!"

Clearly reluctant to pull away from his wife, Jack glanced back over his shoulder to regard the teenager with a grin. "Well, you wouldn't have seen it if you'd behaved like most teenagers and slept until noon. Why else do you think we parents get up at the crack of dawn?"

"To make out in the kitchen?!" The teenaged girl made a face. "Ewww . . . we have to *eat* here, Dad!"

"Like you're the one to talk." He countered as Janet rested her forehead against his shoulder, laughing. "Who's Dominic? Why haven't I met this guy?"

Cassandra immediately blushed and took a step back. "Uh . . . Well . . . you weren't here . . . "

"Here now." Jack pointed out. "C'mon, details. Dominic. Who is he, how'd you meet him, any tattoos, criminal record, connected to any system lords? And when do I get to meet him . . . "

"Just as soon as you promise not to meet him at the door with Teal'c's staff weapon!" She pointed at him. "And don't tell me you wouldn't do it, Dad!"

"He can't." Janet interjected, still laughing. "The staff weapon doesn't leave the base."

"Not that I haven't tried." Her husband groused, turning to lean back against the counter, still standing between her legs. "General caught me." He perked up at a thought. "Might be able to manage a Zat though. A Zat blast should put the fear of God into the kid just as well as the staff weapon . . . "

"Dad!!" Cassandra looked scandalized. "You *wouldn't*!" He hesitated and her eyes widened further. "Dad!!!"

"Naw..." Jack finally moved away from the counter, drawing his adopted daughter into a loose hug. "But it's like the most important Earth rule, y'know? Dads always get to scare the hell out of their daughter's boyfriends. The other Dads'll kick me out of the club if I donn't." He turned to survey his wife. "Right?"

Laughing again, she held up her hands. "Oh no you don't. I'm not getting drawn into this one. But, be thankful, Cassie. I hear General Hammond ran background checks on his daughters' boyfriends . . . "

"Now *there* is an idea!"

"Mom!" Cassie shot an aggravated look at her mother. "Don't *encourage* him!"

"Sorry!" Janet apologized, looking quite unrepentant about it.

"You guys are crazy." Cassandra decided with a shake of her head, slipping free of her Dad's arm and heading for the refrigerator to retrieve the bottle of Sunny D that had brought her to the kitchen in the first place. "I'm gonna go get a shower."

"Still wanna meet this Dominic." Jack's voice followed her toward the door. "I hear from your Mom and Carter he must be something. Blew out a light and everything . . . hot stuff."

"DAD!" Spinning to face her parents once more, Cassie looked accusingly at her mother. "I thought you weren't going to tell him that?! I can't believe you told him that!" With the outrage only an offended teenage girl could be capable of, she stomped out of the room leaving her parents to quiet laughter.

"You are a very bad man, Jack O'Neill." Janet informed him as Jack rejoined her, taking her hand in his.

"Yes I am." He agreed with a satisfied grin. "She's lucky though. Carter wanted to assign a couple SFs to watch the guy."

"Like you didn't consider it." She returned smoothly as he leaned back against her again.

"Course I did. Hammond said no." Jack sighed as she slid her hands down his chest, resting her chin on his head. "Teal'c said he's coming over for dinner next time Dominic's here though. Daniel too. They want a word. I figure between the three of us and Carter . . . he'll figure things out pretty quick. Providing he's a smart kid of course."

"And just what is he supposed to figure out?"

"He hurts my little girl and they'll never find his body." Jack announced simply.

"Ah, that." Janet nodded then fell silent. It didn't take much imagining on her husband's part to figure out where her thoughts were going.

"Janet . . . "

"I know. I know." She sighed. "It's just . . . we came so close to losing her."

Turning, he cupped her face between his palms, gently lifting it to meet her gaze. "But we didn't, Janet. We didn't. That's all that matters . . . we didn't."


End file.
